TGYH - part II
by Tommy B 101
Summary: My second response to a TGYH challenge over at DLP. Line: Harry looked from the Aurors in the doorway, to the bloodied and unconscious man on the bar floor, to the dildo he held in his hand. "This isn't what it looks like!" he protested plaintively.


Tomato! I ve done it. Here you go. Unedited, naturally.

Harry looked from the Aurors in the doorway, to the bloodied and unconscious man on the bar floor, to the dildo he held in his hand. "This isn't what it looks like!" he protested plaintively.

Aaaand cue duel with the Aurors. Or maybe you'd prefer to write Harry beating a man over the head with a dildo. _

Harry deflected a bone-breaker and leapt over a tripping jinx. They were schoolyard spells, but if one of them hit, he'd be fucked. That was why he would make sure that none of them would even come close.

"Give it up, Smith!" Harry shouted.

Harry sent a barrage of spell-chained stunners to try and knock Smith down. He was told not to use lethal force, but Harry, being Harry, could never hold back for so long.

"Just give me the goddamned artifact, Smith and I'll leave you alone!"

"Like hell, Potter! We both know that you'll take me when my back is turned!"

Harry had to concede that one. Smith was a slivery fucker and got away with all kinds of things and this was no exception. A charmed muggle artifact of some kind, Harry knew.

Harry summoned the table that Smith was stand on out from under him and he crashed to the floor. Smith started his roll, before coming to a crashing halt against the frame of the door.

"Got you now, fuckhead," muttered Harry.

Smith was a Deere in headlights, a fly under dragonfire and he was done, Harry had the bastard.

He was in the mood to let go. All work and no play made Harry a grumpy bastard. And when Harry was a grumpy bastard, aurors got canned.

He strode through the door of the swinging club off Diagon, a recent addition to the decor. He made no move to cover up his scar or to go incognito at all. Harry needed free drinks and if he had to play the Boy-who-lived card, then so be it.

Immediately, he noticed the atmosphere. Wild partying made everyone's magic swirl and flow freely. Alcohol lowered inhibitions and concerns. Their magic took the party option along with them, so they weren't alone in acting wild and free.

A huge bouncer, probably an old auror who had gotten canned for some slight against the ministry, guarded the doors to the joint. Harry nodded at him and used a subtle brush of legilimancy to find out the man's name.

"Hello, Bram," Harry said jovially.

Bram looked up and recognized him. "Harry Potter?" He whispered.

"In the flesh," Harry chuckled good-naturedly. "Can I come in?"

The man nearly tripped over himself to let him in. "Yes, sir. Please do! And if there's any trouble... any at all..."

"I'll come to you," Harry nodded.

As he stepped inside, the crash of drums and the rolling sound of an electric guitar, no doubt with hundreds of enchantments on it, hit him. Immediately, as any reasonable man would do, he stepped up to the bar and ordered a double fire-whisky on the rocks. Sipping his drink slowly, Harry gazed toward the dance-floor, where girls in revealing outfits were pirouetting in the arms of their respective partners. Draining his drink and clamping down on the cough that tried to force its way out, Harry began his search for someone single and hot.

He walked forward, pushing through the tightly-gathered knot of bodies just before the boarder of the dance-floor. Spying a pretty witch in a sleeveless dress and heels. Harry immediately felt sorry for her and decided to at least lighten the weight that she exerted on her heels.

Twenty minutes later, Lucy Carson was in his arms and rubbing her chest enticingly against his. Maybe he'd take her bate, but for now, he promised himself, he'd have fun first. They swayed and jumped to a beet that made sense to the young and the wild, something the muggles called electronic, but something the magicals had bastardised, called magonic.

Occasionally, she'd shout something into his ear but he could never catch a word that she was trying to get across. So, he nodded along and pretended to be interested in what she had to say. On his fifth drink, courtesy of his fans, Harry was already getting bored of this little girl. Ditching her, he began to work his way around the dance-floor, making sure to only take the "taken" girls for one turn around the floor.

Harry was on his seventh drink and well on the way to getting pissed out of his brackets. The music was getting to him and the atmosphere, which could turn a lowliest of cowards into men, was beginning to take hold of him. It was for this reason that when Taylor Noggin, a pretty blonde in a low-cut, sleeveless dress was snatched from his grip by a big bloke that Harry went for his wand.

Using his wand, both of them, was what Harry was good at. A slug-vomiting hex, just to humiliate the guy, connected with the man s ample belly. He immediately bubbled over, vomiting spectacularly all over the witch s dress.

The man came for him, enraged, meaty paws swinging at him. Harry switched hands and punched the guy with his right. His head snapped back as the guy rolled with the punch and before Harry knew it, the man s arms were around him in a boxer s clinch.

Fuck! he squeezed out as the breath was driven from his lungs. The man s arms kept getting tighter around him, but Harry was not done yet.

Harry was still on his feet and used that to his advantage. Lunging forward, he drove the man back one step, two steps, till he fetched up against the throng of dancers. Harry stomped on his foot and was going to try a banishing charm. Granted, he d go flying with the man, but he d land on top.

His wand sparked and they were hurled forward, knocking over a pile of dancers. Harry hadn t thought that part through. Now, it was a tangled mess and Harry fought to extricate himself from the pile of heaving bodies and the puddles of spilt drink.

Harry drove his knee forward and felt something squish under it. An even louder scream was heard as the man, whose balls had just been kneed, bellowed.

The man finally let go of him and Harry rolled off the pile. Harry was laughing as he watched people punch and kick from the ground up, till they rose as a solid mass of bodies that began pounding at each other.

Women screamed as the men joined in the spirit, hurling chairs and glasses hither and thither, trying to floor opponents.

Wand in hand, Harry directed two glasses to hit the ceiling, where they shattered on impact and began raining lethal chips of glass everywhere. Erecting a shield, Harry watched as the frenzy got worse.

Harry leapt over a mound of wrestling bodies and stood on the bar counter, deflecting a hurled liquor bottle. It sailed into the thick of the crowd and shattered, a bubbling fountain champagne jetting high into the air and into someone s eye.

Laughing, Harry stepped onto a barstool and started levitating himself above the crowd, deflecting thrown missiles and causing more pandemonium. Taking off the levitation charm, he let the bar stool drop, felling two huge wizards who were cowering away from a witch wielding her high-heel like a miniature pick-ax. The witch looked gratefully up at Harry, who was descending toward her fast, before she was flattened by the falling bodies of the two wizards that were victimized by the bar stool.

Three birds with one stone, laughed Harry.

An arm wrapped around his neck from behind, the wrist settling under his chin and yanking his head back. Using this, Harry drove his head back even further and felt the satisfying crunch as the nose shattered. Ignoring the warm blood trickling down the back of his neck, he turned to face the wizard who was about to collapse back. Harry hit him in the mouth for good measure.

Now, the smell of alcohol, blood and sweat permeated the room and things seemed to be dying down again. Bram, the bouncer, seemed to be stunning those who still stood. Harry deflected every one of them that even came remotely close, but let the man stun the others. Soon, Harry was one of the last men standing and Bram leveled his wand at him.

Sorry, sir, he said, but BWL or not, you were the one who started the shit.

Harry deflected the disarmer and leapt over more of the unconscious bodies. Standing on a particularly high mound of bodies, he sent a whip-like tendril of magic whipping through the air to wrap around Bram's waist.

You ve been a naughty boy, Bram, Harry said. You aim for the women s breasts when you stun, he cackled. Don t think I didn t see you!

Harry deflected a mediocre tripping jinx, which connected with one of the legs of a table which Bram had just animated. The table tripped, doing an arse-over-tit dance across the sprawl of bodies. Another stunner was deflected toward a hovering candle and that s what started the fire.

The candle fell and landed in a pool of alcohol the fire began spreading, till it reached the pile of bodies. The shockwave as something exploded threw Harry off his feet and soaring over the pile of bodies to land, clean on his feet, in front of Bram.

Harry had a slight problem, though. In all this soaring, flying like a bitch whose tampon fuse had been lit; his wand had slipped from his fingers. He had one final weapon in his arsenal to put Bram down.

Harry fished in his right jeans pocket and pulled out the artifact he had confiscated from Zack Smith. A dildo, with black stripes and runes engraved along the shaft, with the charging rune situated on the mushroom-like head of the thing. This artifact was said to rip a new one, if the clench or impact was hard enough. So, Harry raised his hand high and brought the sex toy crashing down on the skull of the bouncer.

Zack wasn t kidding about the new hole. Because that hole drilled into his head and sprouted two sets of lips. And that s when the Aurors arrived.

Harry looked from the Aurors in the doorway, to the bloodied and unconscious man on the bar floor, to the dildo he held in his hand. "This isn't what it looks like," he protested plaintively.


End file.
